A break in the deluge

The rain seems to have subsided for now. Got drenched four times last week walking to and from the station - which saved washing my hair, of course.

Currently staying at home for a few days. Am woken up at half past eight every morning by the builders next door, who're putting in a loft conversion seemingly right above my room. Somehow, my brother manages to sleep through this.

Amazing how time passes when you have nothing to do other than read and watch Big Brother. Sad about Posh George, by the way. As will Jamie be when he gets back from his latest not-so-far-flung destination.

Ophelia the Cleanin' Demon

When your books are falling on the floor, it's time to make a stand.

I'm not feeling too chipper at the moment. Living on one's own in London is just obnoxiously expensive, of which I'm reminded regularly every month. I don't even really understand how I manage to spend that much. Must devise a budget. Secondly, we discussed timetables for next year on Friday. The horror of eleven classes of twelve year olds is not to be underestimated when added to three extra-curricular classes. The only saving grace of the whole thing is that I'll only be teaching one yr 9, for which I'm thankful, given how much I loathe that entire year group.

Doing the whole big cleaning thing today. I'm shite at the whole domestic thing - no energy during the week and no inclination at the weekend. Also can't bring myself to walk along the corridor to get the hoover, in case I have to interact with the other inhabitants of the building. Not that I'm antisocial or anything... I just don't like talking to people. So there's lots of dusting and dustpan and brushing and sponging involved. Makes you appreciate seventeenth century maids so much more. Not that I've ever had one.

And exactly how many more lame Caesar/Sezer jokes can Big Brother produce??

Oo - Monday

Carrying on the book theme for now, this is what I have on the pile of books waiting to be read:
Michelangelo and the Pope's Ceiling, Ross King
The Ptolemies, Duncan Sprott
In the Company of the Courtesan, Sarah Dunant
Caesar, Adrian Goldsworthy
Machiavelli: A Man Misunderstood, Michael White
Three's Company: Alfred Duggan

Back to the dull horror of trying to sort out the main lower school trip today. Given that there are actually very few arrangements to be made, i.e. we're not taking them abroad and there's no coach to worry about, there are still an annoying number of forms to fill in. I hate forms. They require definite answers.

Oo - Sunday

Books bought: 5 (oh dear). One of these is a present, though... does that help?

Discovered a fab independent bookshop in Hampstead (opposite Hampstead Heath station) called Daunt. Almost everything (including some fiction) is divided into country of origin or theme. For example, one might find guide books to Rome, Machiavelli and Virgil all under Italy. There's a cave for children's books at the back, which I'd have been dead excited about when I was six.

I'm suffering a severe lack of bookshelf space. You see, if the spare wardrobe were to be moved out, I could probably fit in another bookshelf on that wall...

Everything's all pink and sunny

Thanks, Chris!

I love local elections: means school is closed, so I've not had to wake up at the crack of dawn and have had time to get my hair cut at last. Felt under some strange kind of obligation to have it long for Des's wedding, but will only end up feeling bitter. Much nicer having it short, even though it'll take ages to liven up every morning. Doubtless Mother will hate it.

Former Flatmate is leaving the school to return to the land of kilts and haggis. Horrid though it sounds, I'm quite glad. I haven't been able to bring myself to have a proper conversation with her since we moved out, just in case she mentions the bastard her boyfriend. You never know - the next head of Business Studies (hmm... B.S. - telling) might be male: that'd make a change.

Interesting biological discovery made this week: I have a dorsal gangylion (sp.?) on my right wrist. I'd never heard of these before, but apparently they're a kind of cyst, and will go away over time. People in the past used to hit them with a book. I tried this with the spine of 'Introducing Cicero', but only ended up with pain.

Loving the summer weather, although I really need to go shopping for a suitable wardrobe to cope with it!